Gunpowder and Lead
by Jesscah
Summary: Songfic based off of "Gunpowder and Lead" by Miranda Lambert. Jackson is posting bail and Lisa isn't giving up without a fight. Oneshot.


This is my first attempt at posting a fanfiction on here... so... be nice? :D Feedback is welcomed! I'm hoping to post longer things on here, once I finish them.

Disclaimer - I do not own (though I wish I did) Red Eye, Jackson, or Lisa. *sighs*

Based off of "Gunpowder and Lead" by Miranda Lambert. Lyrics are in bold. Hope you enjoy it! :P

**County road 233, under my feet****  
****Nothin' on this white rock but little ol' me****  
****I've got two miles till, he makes bail****  
****And if I'm right we're headed straight for hell**

I took the day off from work. I had heard the news that Jackson was going to be putting up bail. At first I was absolutely terrified. The last time I saw him, he was trying to kill me. He would have succeeded in doing so, had my father not shot him in the chest with his associate's gun.

Then the fear slipped away. I knew Jackson would come for me at some point. If not him it would be someone he worked for. I was a loose end. I ruined his assignment. Keefe lived and Jackson was furious.

So, I took the day off. I would go home and I would wait for the inevitable. I knew that this time I would be better prepared. This would be in my home, on my turf, and I would be waiting for him to show his face.

**I'm goin' home, gonna load my shotgun****  
****Wait by the door and light a cigarette****  
****If he wants a fight, well now he's got one****  
****And he ain't seen me crazy yet****  
****He slapped my face and he shook me like a rag doll****  
****Don't that sound like a real man?****  
****I'm gonna show him what little girls are made of****  
****Gunpowder and lead**

As I sat in my living room, contemplating how I would battle Jackson, I remembered the flight. I remembered how he nearly choked me to death in the bathroom and how he threw me into the walls of the tiny stall. The headbutting, the rough grips of my wrists, the choking…. I hated him. He deserved no less than the shotgun I had my father surrender to me last year. He didn't need to be keeping something like that in the house…. I had always meant to dispose of it, but why not get some use out of it, after all?

He wants a fight? He'll get one. Last time was just a taste of what I can do. This time I'd be ready. I pulled over my brown leather chair to the edge of the living room, facing the front door. I didn't expect him to knock. If he did, I'd yell come in, and that would be the end all. Then again, if he expected it and got in the first move, well… it'd all be downhill from there. Either way, I would be going to hell for this, but I know he wouldn't get off easy either.

**Well it's half past ten, another six pack in****  
****And I can feel the rumble like a cold black wind****  
****He pulls in the drive, gravel flies****  
****He don't know what's waitin' here this time**

It was half past ten when I heard the roar of an engine and the gravel being slung as a car swung madly into my driveway. He knew that I was expecting him. Why else would he cause so much of a scene? There was no point in him trying to hide his arrival when I was already inside waiting for him to come in.

**Hey I'm goin' home, gonna load my shotgun****  
****Wait by the door and light a cigarette****  
****If he wants a fight well now he's got one****  
****And he ain't seen me crazy yet****  
****He slapped my face and he shook me like a rag doll****  
****Don't that sound like a real man?****  
****I'm gonna show him what little girls are made of****  
****Gunpowder and lead**

Unlike the battle at my father's house, I would not run upstairs. He would not throw me down them. I possessed the choice weapon to begin with. There would be no bystanders, like my father, to worry about. It was just Jackson and I dueling to the death. I stared down at my feet and laughed. I'd have to do without the protection of my heels this time. No, this battle would end the second he walked through that door. We wouldn't leave my living room. He'd never seen the true insane side of me; the side that had nothing left to lose, but him. I was more than happy to demonstrate the power of this side to Jackson.

Sure enough, the door to the car slammed and I heard his bounding steps as he throttled up to my front door. I purposefully left it unlocked and he barged right in. He froze as he saw me, shotgun calmly laid across my lap, and he smirked. The dog _smirked_. I rose slowly from the chair and he shut the door slowly behind him. He was _still_ smirking. I'd wipe that smirk off of his face.

"Well, well, Leese."

"Hey, _Jack_." He cringed. "I hear you got out on bail… fancy that. How's life?"

"Peachy."

**His fist is big but my gun's bigger****  
****He'll find out when I pull the trigger**

I never expected him to lunge for me, but he did. The gun was pressed against my chest. He was pinning me beneath it. As I struggled, he became furious. I could see it in his icy eyes that he was determined to make me pay. He just couldn't see that I was determined to do the same.

He raised his fist and punched me hard in the face. I cried out, nearly releasing my grip on the gun. I felt blood begin to ooze from my nose and down my throat. I spit some at him. That really made him enraged. He pressed the gun down on my throat, choking me with the one thing I needed to save my life.

No.

There was no way that he was going to win this time. I won last time with minimal resources. I was certainly going to win in my own home. It wouldn't end like this. If anyone deserved to die, it was him.

I shifted my legs beneath him slightly and brought my right knee up with as much force as I could muster. He cried out in pain and I felt myself smile at his pain and the rasp that I had put in his voice.

His momentary lapse of pressure on my gun allowed me to pull it from his grip and scramble from beneath him. He sat, now, and smiled at me. I cocked the gun and aimed it for his face. My finger was poised on the trigger.

"Damn. Twice?"

"This time I don't miss."

He nodded solemnly. His wrist disappeared into his jacket in a flash and he pulled out a small knife. He flicked it at me, lodging it in my leg. I cried out, but held my ground. It was just a distraction. If Jackson could continue to attack me after everything I had done to him, I, the stronger person, could certainly kill him with a small flesh wound.

He rose, planning to lunge for me again. He probably hoped to take out my legs. Instead, I stepped back and as he came forward, I pressed the gun to his forehead. He was still smiling at me. I smiled back. I pulled the trigger.

**I'm goin' home, gonna load my shotgun****  
****Wait by the door and light a cigarette****  
****If he wants a fight well now he's got one****  
****And he ain't seen me crazy yet****  
****He slapped my face and he shook me like a rag doll****  
****Don't that sound like a real man?****  
****I'm gonna show him what little girls are made of****  
****Gunpowder and,****  
****Gunpowder and lead**

"Grandma Henrietta always said look forward. She also used to say that our family was made of good old fashioned gunpowder and lead. You should have done your research, _Jack_."

I dropped the gun and found the phone. It was worth it.


End file.
